Forever Eternal
by InterruptedProgress
Summary: Devil’s Accomplice. It was something I had heard frequently; a nickname of sorts that I had acquired over the years. Renee and Charlie had not been happy with my decision to befriend Mary Alice Brandon.
1. Preface

**A/N: **So, I posted this story some time ago, but had to abandon it for a while. It's back and I've edited the first chapter– which is really all you guys saw anyways– and here is the preface to the story. It takes place around the time Alice should have been changed, but I've thrown in Bella. That's all you need to know for now.

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**Preface-**

_Devil's Accomplice_

It was something I had heard frequently; a nickname of sorts that I had acquired over the years. Renee and Charlie had not been happy with my decision to befriend Mary Alice Brandon.

Despite the Brandon's attempts at hiding their daughter's strangeness, her occasional fits and penchant for blacking out for long periods of time proved to be too difficult to conceal. In the beginning, many thought her to be ill and the town's apothecary had spent days attempting to cure her. It wasn't until she began to speak of visions that true panic set in and the word spread like wildfire through the town that Mary Alice was the devil's child.

The people in Biloxi were very superstitious.

Parents warned their children not to associate with her and adults feared her presence. My mother had been more extreme in her storytelling, filling my head with nonsense about her deals with the devil and until the year I turned ten, I had believed them.

That was the year I had my first encounter with her, myself. I had had another argument with my self-proclaimed best friend Janice Farther. Our parents were good friends and our mothers had somehow gotten it into their heads that their daughters should be as well. I didn't have much say in the matter and Janice was not one to argue with her mother.

She was one, however, to argue with me.

I had left her house early that day and instead of heading straight home, like I should have, I strayed off of the normal path and headed towards Cook's Pond. Cook's Pond was a little park half a mile outside of Biloxi and one of the lesser-visited places in the small town. I did not know at the time, but the reason being that it was only a short distance away from the Brandon house and was rumored to be a frequent haunt of their eldest daughter.

The Biloxi Witch, the Devil's Child.

That day I had carried on in my ignorance, blinded by my fury at the little girl with the perfect blond curls who claimed my friendship and obedience, like I was some slave to her every whim. My feet had led me down that long, forgotten dirt pathway and the angry tears that had welled up in my eyes blurred my vision.

I had almost walked right past her. I _should_ have walked right past her.

She was lying on the ground–motionless– her tiny form curled as she lay in the middle of the path. I remember stumbling over my own feet at the abruptness of her appearance and barely managing to keep upright. The girl was unfamiliar to me, as any stranger would have been, and yet I knew almost instantly that this was the one whom my mother had taught me to fear. Mary Alice Brandon. The Biloxi Witch.

The Devil's Child.

There wasn't anything extraordinary about her appearance. In my naivety I had thought up some frightening creature, with a permanent scowl, grey hair and warts covering her too large nose. The girl that lay before me, the supposed scourge of the town, this _Devil's Child_, was just that– a _child_.

She couldn't have been much older then myself, if any older at all.

I rushed forward, tripping slightly over my skirts as I made my way to her side.

Her eyes were blank and her gaze faraway, as she remained unmoving, her long ebony hair in disarray around her. I hesitated for a moment, before kneeling down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly.

"Miss Brandon?"

Mary Alice flinched at the contact before letting out a shrill scream. Startled, I fell backwards and clamped my hands over my ears. Her body uncurled itself as she began to thrash violently about. Fear flooded my senses and I quickly scrambled to my feet and began to back away.

"No!" She had shouted, her voice hoarse and filled with an unknown agony. "Don't touch her!"

I remember wanting to run as I looked around frantically, unsure of what I should do. The thought was there, in the back of my mind. I could just leave her there, no one had known I was here; no one would have faulted me for trying to escape. But terror kept me in place. Terror and a sick curiosity kept me from leaving her by the road that day. Unable to run away, but unable to move any closer.

I'm not sure how long I had stood there, watching her small pale limbs flailing about as she continued her screaming until her voice was all but gone. Her silent shrieks were the ones that haunted me most though. Knowing that she was in such pain that she had screamed herself hoarse. It was with morbid fascination that I continued watching her.

And then she was still. The silence was an eerie relief when compared to the shrieking of the previous moments. Mary Alice's body went limp and for one brief second, I thought she had died.

Yet not an instant later her small form shot up as she began gasping desperately for air. Her hazy blank stare was gone– replaced with bright, hazel eyes that were spilling over with tears. She let out a small sob as one leaked from the corner of her eye and fell down her cheek, leaving a trail that was followed closely by others.

"Cynthia." She choked out before she buried her face into her hands, her long dark hair creating a curtain between us.

Maybe I should have left then. Perhaps if I had, things would have turned out differently. I could have gone back home and continued my life as it had been, forgetting the broken girl on the dirt path and her torturous cries for mercy. I might have grown up and married Chester Laurence, the boy who lived just down the road from me and we would have had a daughter of our own, who I would introduce to Janice Farther's daughter so that they might become best friends as well. Perhaps I may have been happy with a life like that. Proper, Expected, Safe.

But I didn't leave.

And the moment I reached forward and pulled her into my embrace, the moment she froze in surprise and lifted up her fearful, wet eyes to mine, that silent conversation, and the moment she wrapped her tiny arms around my waist and continued her sobbing, everything changed.

In that moment, my fate had been sealed.

Any future I might have had in Biloxi disappeared and a new door opened revealing to me a different dirt path, just wide enough for two, and an endless eternity.

All in a moment.

I know that now, but then– then I was just a little girl, on the side of the road, with the Devil's Child clinging to my waist.

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**Okay, so that was the preface. Anyone care to share what they thought? Any feedback would be welcome, I'm open to hearing anything.**

**Not sure how often I will be updating this one though, I guess it depends on who is interested in reading it.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**-Kaylee**

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	2. Chapter One

**A/N: **Thank you so much for all of those who reviewed! I'm so happy I haven't lost all of my readers because of the hiatus. Someone asked if this is an Alice/Bella story. The answer to that is no, they aren't going to form a romantic relationship, they are just best friends.

Okay, so here is the next chapter.

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**Chapter One-**

_Chester Laurence._

The name itself brought delicate blushes and impish giggles to all of the girls in Biloxi. Many a girl had lost hours of sleep as they thought over a smile he might have given them on the street or a kind word spared in their direction. That being said, many a girl had spent hours crying over him when he did not show them any particular preference. If memory serves correctly, he had been a gentleman through and through. The perfect son-in-law, mothers would say, if only their daughter might be able to catch him.

Yes, I remember Chester Laurence very well.

Mary Alice, however, had never had the pleasure of meeting the boy. She tended to avoid town, at the orders of her mother. She rarely interacted with anyone outside her family or myself. I remember bringing her over for a visit once.

Renee had been less then cordial.

I had been naïve then, thinking that if only I could let the town see how sweet my new friend was, that they would welcome her with open arms.

We were met with cold stares and the occasional derogatory comment. After an elderly woman spit on us, it became clear that we weren't welcome. Those whom I had once considered my friends shunned me, though I didn't mourn the loss of Janice Farther's company like my mother had.

She told me that I was ruining my chances in polite society by hanging around that _thing_. She never did call Mary Alice by her given name.

"Isabella," She had said, pursing her lips as I came home from another visit to Cook's Pond. "I don't think you understand the repercussions of your actions. Have you heard what people are saying about you? What they are saying about _us_?"

In all of my mother's speeches she had never failed to bring up two things. The first and foremost being how my friendship with Mary Alice affected _her_. The second was how my actions damaged me in the eyes of my peers– or rather– the eyes of the eligible men in this town.

"What self-respecting gentleman would associate themselves with you now?"

Me. The Devil's Accomplice.

I knew what was being said about me in Biloxi, what the neighbors whispered when my back was turned. Their rejection of me stung, but I knew of none who hurt worse then Mary Alice, whose own family barely recognized her as one of their own and whose little sister was already showing signs of corruption at the age of seven. I honestly believed, and still do, that it would have killed her if I had turned my back on her as well.

My response to this speech, which had first been delivered to me at the young age of thirteen, when my friendship with her was no longer fresh and our affection for one another had grown deep, had been typical of one so young as I.

"What would I want with a husband?"

The answer wouldn't come to me until two years later, when Chester Laurence in all of his glorified perfection threw one of his dazzling smiles in my direction.

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It was my fifteenth birthday– the sky was cloudy. The earth was wet.

I had never been fond of the rain. It always felt too stifling; the clouds that covered up an endlessly blue sky impressing upon me just how trapped I was in that dank little town.

My mother had awoken me early, with a smile so bright as to warn me of the day's impending engagements. To Renee, my fifteenth birthday meant that I was now of marriageable age– no matter that no one would take me seriously as a potential wife until I was a little older.

I remember her rummaging through my closet, searching, as I listened to her from my position on the bed as she was telling me what my schedule for the day would be. Looking back, I now realize that her over scheduling was her way of keeping me away from Cook's Pond. Away from Mary Alice.

Though in my dread then, all I had been able to think about was the torture that the day was sure to provide for me. The thought that I might not even see Mary Alice hadn't even crossed my mind. I would have found a way.

That way came to me in the form of Chester Laurence, the boy who had saved me from a tedious tea my mother had arranged at the Farthing household. The last thing I had wanted to do was spend time with Janice Farthing.

He had offered to escort me home after he had intercepted me and my mother as we had made the rounds. Renee was not one to turn down a perspective suitor for her daughter; I was not one to object to escaping her fawning.

It was a situation to please all sides. Except Chester Laurence.

Poor Chester Laurence. My departure had been an abrupt one indeed and so soon after our conversation– he must have thought there was something wrong with him, that he had _done_ something wrong.

The situation really had been unavoidable.

But he did have his moment, however brief it may have been, when he was someone with whom I thought I could be happy with.

And even now, still, I think we might have been happy together had Fate dealt him the proper hand. She hadn't, cruel mistress that she was, and when I spoke of going to Cook's Pond, the boy had frozen mid-step and looked at me with those deep, sapphire eyes.

I remember being surprised at how fearful they seemed.

"I meant what I said earlier, Miss Swan." He said, his deep voice music to my ears. "I want to do right by you. May I call on you tomorrow?"

He left me then, on that dirt path. That would be the last time I ever saw Chester Laurence. For many years after that day, I would wonder at his eventual fate. He could not have mourned my leaving for very long. Chester never did seem like one who would pine after one such as I. It wasn't until I went back to Biloxi, many years later that I learned of his actual end. Like most young men at the time, Chester Laurence had been drafted into the war. He never made it back home.

But at the time, none of this was known to me and I mourned the loss of his arm on mine, but thought of him no more as I continued my way to Cook's Pond. Mary Alice was waiting.

I saw her, standing under one of the few trees that grew freely in the area. For the most part Cook's Pond was just a small pond surrounded by cattails and weeds, grown wild after it had been abandoned some years ago. Mary Alice the only one who kept them company.

I'm not sure what I had expected her to say on that September evening. Maybe I had expected that same bright smile, the one that always seemed impossibly cheerful for someone such as her. The one that made me feel guilty for ever complaining about my life when she was worse off far more then I could ever be. The smile she only used when we were together, because no one else was around to scorn either one of us for our friendship. To throw out accusations, to spit on our faces because she was the Devil's Child and I, her accomplice.

Whatever I may have expected, I know it wasn't her tearstained cheeks or the heart wrenching sobs she had released upon seeing me.

"Isabella." She choked out when I drew near enough. I pulled her to me, holding her as she continued to cry into my shoulder, mumbling words that held no meaning to me, apologies that there was no need for.

"Mary," I had said. "What has you so distressed?"

She had pulled away from me then, her large, wet eyes boring into mine with an unknown sadness.

"I'm leaving, Isabella." She whispered, so quietly I thought I might have imagined it. "They're taking me away."

I felt my heart stop. _Away._

Away was a possibility that had been looming over the both of us for some time now. I had heard others discuss it, when they thought that I could no longer hear them and Mary Alice had seen it for herself.

Away was just a nice way of saying Asylum. Away was her delicate way of letting me know that we would never see each other again. My best friend. The Biloxi Witch.

The Devil's Child.

"No. They can't take you there. I-I won't let them."

She smiled then. Not the bright, shining smile that left me guilt-ridden, but rather a smile of defeat. I hated that smile.

"You know you can't do anything to stop them."

"Then I'll go with you!"

Mary Alice scowled. "Don't you dare try anything like that, Isabella."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Not yet. But I've seen it." She shook her head at me. "You're already on thin ice. You can't risk _anything._"

"I'll risk _everything_! You're my _best friend_."

She took a step away from me. "I can't be, Isabella, not anymore."

"Tomorrow night they're going to come for me. My parents will tread softly, hoping to grab me while I'm asleep. I won't be, but I will go quietly. They will hand me over to three men, who will throw me into the back of a cart and lock me away, like I'm in a cage."

I remember her speaking calmly. Resigned, detached, _unmoved_ by what her future held for her. She would have gone on, I suppose, if I had not stopped her. What she was gaining from her impassioned speech, why she decided to share it with me, I'll never know. I like to think that she was so far removed from the situation, that maybe in her distress she didn't know what she was saying. It's doubtful though. Humans are essentially selfish creatures. Even Mary Alice, who was so far removed from society that it seemed as if she couldn't have been touched was still prone to the vices of humanity.

She was like an accomplished actor on the stage, playing the part perfectly. Her recitation was all that was clear and calm. Like she had no other choice then to be damned to that accursed place. Or perhaps she was a skillful puppeteer, pulling and plucking at each of my strings until I had done as she had wished. As she had hoped.

"Then we'll leave."

Regardless of her reasons, whether she had manipulated me or not, I can never be sure. Her expression had remained as impassive as ever, though there was a spark in her hazel eyes that I could never forget. Triumph.

We left each other then. Me, dashing down that old dirt road, headed home for the last time, Mary Alice shaking her head slowly at me before she moved away from the banks of the pond and tread the trail to the home of her parents.

She never had wished me a Happy Birthday.

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**So... Does it suck yet? I'm trying something new with this story and any feedback would be welcome. Flames? Bring 'em on! Criticism?** **I'm all for it! Encouragement? That would be appreciated as well.**

**This story is for you guys, so any and all thoughts are welcome.**

**Hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving!**

**-Kaylee**

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	3. Chapter Two

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait on this chapter. It's been crazy at school. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and alerted my story! I love hearing what you guys think.

Okay, here's the next installment.

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**Chapter Two–**

Five miles west of Biloxi was a small, run down inn known as the Foxtail Tavern. Out in the middle of nowhere and just off the side of the road, a few feet back, it was far enough out of our way to cause an inconvenience and close enough to be our first destination.

Mary Alice hadn't told me where we were headed when we met at dusk on that fateful evening. The only indication she gave me was her hand in mine and a silent plea to keep quiet. A ridiculous sight we must have been, if there had been any onlooker to pass by. The small slip of a girl leading me blindly through Biloxi's neighboring forest. Our pace had been quick, the quiet crunch of the leaves ominous in the dimly lit forest. The moon wasn't out that night, but the rain of the afternoon had passed on and gave us the stars to light our way.

Inevitably, I stumbled.

I remember asking her once, if we might light a candle. In my haste I had only packed the essentials in my small valise, all of my now worldly possessions fitting inside the tiny compartments. There were two outfits, some bread I had pilfered from the kitchen, a small comb, two candles, and the money I had taken from my father's desk.

I never received an answer. I didn't ask again.

We continued on in that manner for hours. In the darkness, hardly anything had been distinguishable. The treetops often covered what little light the stars might have offered us and I spent most of that journey attempting to make out Mary Alice's small figure just ahead of me.

The forest seemed completely empty. Our footsteps echoed through the night, each snap of a twig or the disturbance of the earth beneath our feet carried our escape back towards Biloxi, where our absence would have no doubt been noted and a search party sent out. In my fearful state, I often imagined the distant shouting of men and the howling of the hounds as they were sent to follow our trail. Whether these were actual occurrences I couldn't venture to say. Mary Alice had us keep to the river.

Two miles out was where we had stopped. I didn't question her actions as she pulled her hand from mine and slipped off her slippers before going to work on her stockings. I merely mimicked her movements, understanding that this would be where we crossed.

The river hadn't been so much a river as it was a wide stream, stretching about fifteen feet across. The water rushed around our knees and nipped at our bare flesh as we waded through. Bumps spread across my exposed arms and legs and my teeth clacked together. Mary Alice had taken my hand in hers once again as we made our crossing, using the other as a balancing tool as we maneuvered our way through the frosty water.

Mary Alice was the first to meet the shore, her tiny hand tugging me onto the sand beside her. Despite our best efforts, our skirts received the brunt of the river's fury.

It was dark. We were alone. We were wet.

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"Do you trust me, Isabella?"

Mary Alice had been silent for almost an hour. Our pace had slowed considerably, my active imagination taking hold of my frayed nerves. Our invisible seekers, the howls of dogs– they all grew closer.

"Yes."

I remember she had her back to me; we were paused in a clearing. It was one of the few instances of that night that I can remember clearly. Everything else was a faded blur, lost in the dark maze of the forest. Her slight frame was bathed in starlight; she hid her face from my own.

A small pale hand pointed towards a nearby tree. "Climb."

I looked at her, askance. "Excuse me?"

She turned to me then, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Climb."

There was an urgency in her eyes, unlike before. A wild desperation. I didn't argue as I stepped towards the large trunk she had been gesturing to. There were a few low branches, perhaps about two feet out of my reach if I stretched.

I looked to Mary Alice. She had to know I wouldn't be able to make it.

She studied me for a moment and then the tree, as if the answer would jump out to her. It did.

"Lift me up."

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_Too High._

That had been my first thought as Mary Alice hoisted me onto the branch beside her. I fell regularly when my feet were _on_ the ground. The damage that I might have inflicted on myself while in a _tree_ kept me frozen in place, clutching tightly onto the thick trunk. My vain attempt at retaining what little balance I had.

My fears had taken hold and I might not have noticed Mary Alice's movements had they not upset our supporting branch.

"What are you doing?" I hissed as she began to lower herself back towards the earth. Her stature was smaller than my own and if she were to leave me then, there was no possible way to climb back up. I would have been of no use to her in that respect.

Obviously.

Her eyes locked with mine. "Keep quiet and climb high. I'll be back when it's safe."

And she was gone. And I was alone.

In a tree.

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I had thought about following her.

Fear created paranoia.

Mary Alice had abandoned me.

I had left everything behind to follow her, only to be left myself.

I might have chased after her, if my fear of falling had not held me in place. Tears might have stung at my eyes as I thought about the ridiculous situation I found myself in. My clothes were torn and damp, I nearly escaped the asylum, I was in a _tree_ and Mary Alice had left me.

Then the howling returned. The shouting commenced.

And for the first time that night, I felt as if I weren't so crazy if my nightmares were chasing me.

_Climb_. She had said. _Keep quiet and climb high_.

I looked up slowly, able to make out the form of the nearest branch, not even a foot above my head. Slowly, I reached up. My movements were so shaky that I upset the branch that was supporting my weight, and the leaves on the end began to quiver.

I quickly latched my hand onto the branch. It was rough and cool to the touch.

The hard part.

Why did she have to leave me in a tree?

I noticed the tears when they blurred my vision. I counted off in my head. I would release the trunk on three.

_One. Two. Three._

I didn't release it.

Barking. Shouting.

My head snapped up. I wiped my face against my arm.

There were torches in the distance. Light. Men. Barking. Shouting.

A new fear gripped my heart. _No_.

I couldn't wait for the count off for an opportunity to cheat myself out of a new life. I quickly threw my hand onto the branch once more and hoisted myself up.

_Higher_.

My muscles froze. I was even higher off the ground than before. Tears welled up in my eyes. I lifted them up towards the branches. My arms were shaking; my legs were unsteady.

_I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this._

"Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly, lavender's green," I murmured quietly. _Don't look down. Keep quiet and climb high._ My hand released the branch in search of the next.

"When I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen."

Distractions. I remember needing a distraction. My mother used to sing it to me when I was a babe. It was the only thing we shared between us, Renee and I. My mother sang it to me, just as her mother had to her.

"Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?"

As I climbed higher, the voices below me grew closer. I kept my pace slow; if I panicked I would fall. I focused on the words of my lullaby. My movements remained slow and the tears continued to fall, but at that moment I would have done anything.

"Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so?" I paused, hoisting myself onto the last branch. I would go no farther than there and it was the greatest relief to me when I wrapped my arms around the trunk once again, pressing my cheek into its bark.

"Over here!"

The voice was barely heard over the excited howling of the dogs. They were all yelping and jumping over one another as they circled around the meadow, stopping just below my present location. Panic set in as I realized where I was sitting.

I was in a _tree_.

Mary Alice's instructions had left me stranded.

I saw the figure of a man as he stepped into my view, a torch in hand. His face was gaunt in the firelight­–ashen in it's wrinkled features.

Charlie.

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**That's a real song. The original was written before or around the time this story is set in. **

**Is anyone else afraid of heights? My school took a trip to Astro Camp when I was in the eighth grade and there were all of these activities that involved climbing and jumping off of really high places. I always freaked out and ended up singing some song or another to distract myself. The only activity I couldn't fully complete was climbing up the telephone pole, but that's because when I reached the top and made a move to stand, I saw a spider and I freaked out. One phobia is enough, I didn't need to be confronted by two at the same time.**

**Okay, I hope my next update comes quickly. Review and tell me what you think.**

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